


Sight Past Seeing

by Antisafic



Series: The Mountains eyes will guide you [1]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: A prompt Fill, Blind Bilbo, Happy land where everyone survives, I'll add others as this progresses, M/M, Slash, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:37:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antisafic/pseuds/Antisafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins was struck by a rock in the Battle of Five Armies, but it left him with something more then a bump on the head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blind Man's Bluff

**Author's Note:**

> I think Syxx owns my soul now. She has all these amazing prompts I don't know what to do with my life anymore.

When Thorin woke it was on a cot in one of Dain's tents. Voices reached his ears and he strained his eyes to see Thranduil muttering with Dwalin, Balin, and Bofur in the corner. He took a deep breath and had to cough it out, pain ripping through his chest. Bofur and Dwalin were at his side at once. An uproar deafened him to all sounds in the room and he barely heard the "please!" from Bofur before something heavy landed on his chest and Thorin knew no more.

When he awoke next it was to Thranduil alone in his tent, wrapping his wound in strong smelling leaves. Thorin's mouth was dry and he couldn't pull words out of his throat. The Elvenking, sensing that his charge was awake, leveled Thorin with a stare. "I'm not doing this for you. I am doing this for the selfless hero that you nearly threw off the side of your precious mountain,"  he said darkly going back to his work. After he seemed satisfied with his work he turned to Thorin and lifted a tin cup with warm poppy milk to his lips. "Drink this, it will help with the pain and let you have dreamless sleep."

o-o

Two days later Thorin snarled again as Thranduil jabbed at his chest wound, sending sock waves of pain up his torso. Thranduil to his credit did move the old bandage carefully, sighing all the while afterwards.

"I do not have to be here, Thorin, son of Thrain," he reminded harshly, "and you had best be grateful that I am here at all or you would be as dead as the stone from which you came."

Thorin said nothing but bit back the hiss of pain at having cool slave laid over his injury. He was about to snap back at the Mirkwood king until Bofur ran into the tent with a wide smile gracing his features.  

"We found him!"  

The next few moments were a rush of pain, worry, and adrenaline. Dwalin had followed in after the miner and had to restrain his friend and newly found king against the bed from getting up. Thranduil yelled darkly at Thorin to hold still.

Thorin would do no such thing. Not until he saw that the Halfling was okay. Not until he knew that his last words to the Hobbit were of the kindness and the friendship that he deserved. He would see the Halfling want for nothing, that he be lain with jewels and the title of Hero.

As he saw Gandalf bring Bilbo in unconscious, only three things went through Thorin's mind   

_He has to be okay._

_He has to be._

_It's all my fault._

The Wizard brought Bilbo carried in his arms. Despite the sling on one arm he held the Hobbit with ease.  

"Bilbo," Thorin called out, the pain in his chest forgotten in his worry. There was little blood on Bilbo, the splotches stained into the Hobbit's clothes from Orc blood. That much Thorin could tell. His only hope was that Bilbo was merely unconscious from fainting. But a larger part of his mind told him this was a lie.  Bilbo's wounds were more than they seemed and if he died he would have no one to blame but himself.

"Is he-?" Thorin began but couldn't finish the sentence as Thranduil shoved the Dwarf King down from under Dwalin's straining arms and said harshly, "you will stay down if you wish to live," before lifting up to his full height and walking over to Gandalf, offering the second cot in the tent for Bilbo. 

"It's just a head wound," Gandalf said to Thranduil. Thorin sighed in relief from his cot, looking at the other two's backs.

"It's never just a head wound," Thorin heard Thranduil whisper as the Elvenking leaned down onto his knees to look at Bilbo. 

Thorin's breath stilled as Thranduil ran his fingers over Bilbo's head with surprising gentleness.

"He will live, though I do not know what after effects that this will leave behind," Thranduil said, gently resting his hand on the Hobbit's chest. Thorin snapped his mouth close from biting words at the Elf.

"Thank goodness," Gandalf muttered.

"Gandalf, a moment of your time, I wish to talk to you where we will not be overheard," Thranduil said, looking pointedly at Thorin.

Thorin saw the bait for what it was and just rolled his eyes before returning his gaze to Bilbo. As soon as the two left the tent Thorin did his best to roll over. The pain stopped him before he could get fully on his side, so at the moment his head had to twist painfully to the side. "Bilbo," he muttered.

The Hobbit's chest rose and fell with his breaths. They were calm but still he did not stir.

Thorin wanted to shout, wanted to run to the Hobbit's side. He had to tell Bilbo he was sorry, for everything. 

"They found him." Bofur muttered relived as he collapsed onto a stool. The miner looked a mix of elation and guilt to see the Halfling alive. He turned to Thorin and Dwalin who now stood silent next to Thorin's cot.

"The lads were just behind us," he added and as he spoke the tent door opened. Fili stood leaning heavily on a make-shift crutch to keep his left leg bandaged up. Off-white cloth wrapped around his head and left eye, dotted with dark blood stains. Beside him was Kili, legs intact but his arm was bound to his side, as well as a stick that kept his back upright. The shoulder injury had been deadly. If Kili had been older he would not have made it. They both were panting and disheveled.

The two hobbled into the room as fast as they could. They rushed to Bilbo's side, Fili hesitating  a bit behind to stop by his uncle.

"Are you doing well?" he asked.

"I am healing and will live, my worry is for Bilbo," Thorin said, looking past his heir to the sleeping Halfling.

"What's wrong with 'im?" Kili asked. He looked ready to fall onto Bilbo and weep.

"A head wound. The Elf said that he will live, but he does not know what else the wound will leave behind," Thorin answered, coughing a bit between words.

"It doesn't look that bad..." Kili said, looking wishfully at Bilbo

"To us, I know not the strength of a Hobbit head," Thorin muttered, "the best we can do is hope that he will be fine."

Dwalin, Bofur, Kili, and Fili stayed around the rest of the day. Thorin was grateful for their presence. Kili and Fili had been put in the same tent as Oin so he could watch them closely. It was lonely and Thorin was glad for the lack of the Elf King. They checked on Bilbo often and talked about the battle. Now that the gold-sickness had completely left his mind, Thorin saw the world clearly, and it haunted him. The way he had treated Bilbo and his company. His lust of the Arkenstone haunting after him at every turn.   

 When Bofur and his sister-sons had left, Thorin fell back asleep. It was an unconscious decision his body made due to the stress of the day. When he awoke again, Dwalin was gone and it was Thranduil speaking softly to Bilbo. At first Thorin thought only that he was whispering, but it turned out that the king was merely speaking to him in Sindarin.

"He won't understand you," Thorin stated. His lips were chapped and his throat felt as though it was on fire. He took a deep breath and coughed it all out.

"You doubt him so much. Why?" Thranduil asked, looking at Thorin with a blank expression but continued without an answer. "Gandalf tells me this Hobbit can speak a little Sindarin," he said as he turned back to Bilbo and picked up a wet cloth to dab at the scrap on his temple. "Such an amazing soul he has: to be wasted in love with the likes of Dwarfs."

Thorin bristled but still he refused to take the bait. "It is not wasted," he said as calmly as he could. "We have taken care of him and none of this company or any Dwarf would do him harm."

"But you did," Thranduil stated.

Thorin cringed. He had set himself up for that one. It hurt none the less. "I was...I was not in my own mind," he said looking away.

"No, of course not," said the Elvenking. Thorin heard him sigh before looking back over at Thranduil. He sat on his knees, legs tucked underneath him. He had a look of awe and passion across his face while his eyes were trained on Bilbo. He opened his mouth and began talking in Sindarin. 

Thorin now looked at Thranduil and really saw him for the first time since his waking. His clothes were simple: all armor from the battle gone, and in its place plain cotton and silks. There was no crown above his head and his blond hair was pulled back into a pony tail. By all rights he looked like a common Mirkwood Elf. It was only his ability to command and fill a room did Thorin know at all that it was Thranduil and not some lower class Elf.

Thorin cleared his throat, "How is he doing?"

Thranduil stopped but did not turn back to Thorin. "He will live. We just now need to wait for his waking," he said. "You must sleep now too. The rest will heal your wounds faster."

Thorin snorted in his direction but closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. He opened them briefly to look at Bilbo's face, guilt washed over him again and he had to close his eyes to stop the tears that were threatening to spill.

The next day Thranduil was gone when Thorin opened his eyes. His bandages had been re-wrapped, and had his chest not felt as though a troll had sat on it, he huffed in annoyance. Distracting himeself he looked over at Bilbo. The Hobbit's body was calm and his breathing was normal. Oh how Thorin wanted to walk over there and tell the Halfling how sorry he was. He could hear movement outside his tent but no one seemed to be drawing near. He took a deep breath and turned his head as far as it could go.

"It appears as though I am wrong again. I have been proven wrong by you many times on this quest and still I am shocked at how you can do it time and time again. You have shown nothing but loyalty to me and my kin. You left your life behind to help me and I was too blind to see that for what it was," Thorin had to stop to cough and take deep breaths but continued anyway, "I am sorry Bilbo Baggins, child of the kindly West. If more of us valued food, cheer, and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world."

Thorin's next words were swallowed up by Bilbo moving. It wasn't much but Bilbo lifted his arm from his side and moved it closer to himself. It was a small move but none the less the first sign that Bilbo Baggins would in fact live. Thorin smiled despite himself and with the pain in his chest went back to sleep.

It was dark the next time Thorin opened his eyes, the tent was colder, which meant early morning before the sun rose, and the only light was a candle flickering in the dark.

Thranduil was back sitting on the ground reading a book with his back turned to Thorin.

"You are awake again," The Elvenking said quietly.

Thorin decided not to answer.

"Your companions wish you luck and a quick recovery. They would like to see you, but at the time I doubt that it would help with your health," he finished, closing the book. Thorin huffed, so that was the reason for Thorin's lack of visitors. Even Dain had not come to his side.

 "It is about time I check your wounds again."

A movement stopped everything in the tent. Bilbo had rolled onto his side facing Thorin. Thorin smiled and was about to open his mouth to shout in happiness when Thranduil touched his shoulder and shook his head.

"Do not say anything yet, let him get a feel of his surroundings. After your last conversation your voice may trigger a negative reaction," the Elf whispered, looking down at him before turning back to Bilbo.

They both watched as Bilbo moved and slowly opened his eyes, and Thorin swore he never saw anything better. It felt like it did when Kili and Fili had first walked into his tent: a sword piercing through his heart with relief.

Bilbo blinked and rubbed at his eyes. The hand that was on his shoulder tightened a bit and Thorin glanced up to Thranduil. The Elvenking's face was hard and his eyes closed for a bit. Thorin didn't know what had Thranduil so upset.

"Bilbo, can you hear me?" Thranduil asked.

Bilbo nodded his head and looked around him. "Yes, but it is too dark to see. What time of night is it? I can feel the deep cold of early morn'."

Thorin's eyes widened. He gasped and his breath caught in his throat. The candle was brightly lit and was big enough to fill the whole room with a very soft glow.

"What happened? What has become of the battle?" Bilbo asked, now sitting up. Thranduil was there in an instant.

"It is still night little one, you are in a tent. The battle is over, we have been victorious," Thranduil said sitting down and placing a hand on the Hobbit's thigh.

"That is all well and good King Thranduil, but might we light a candle? I can't even see you in this darkness."

Thorin felt like weeping where he lay. He turned away from Bilbo.

"Mister Baggins, there is a lit candle just behind me," Thranduil said calmly. He said a few things in Sindarin and Bilbo gasped.

Thorin looked back to see the Hobbit waving his hand in front of his face, even from his cot he could see Bilbo was shaking, whether to cry or out of anger, Thorin did not know .

"I am....I am blind?" Bilbo said disbelieving and Thorin’s heart collapsed to hear him say it. He wanted Bilbo to shout and to stomp his feet in anger the way he did when Kili and Fili were up to their pranks. He wanted to see Bilbo shake with invisible anger and throw his arms around wildly. He did not want this suddenly calm Bilbo. He wanted to be yelled at. That everything was his fault. He wanted Bilbo to come over and punch him in the face.

"It seems that way yes. You were struck on the forehead and fell only rocks. I do not know if this is a long term effect or not," the Elf finished, placing his hand on Bilbo's cheek. "A lot was lost in the battle. If the gods are kind, your sight will return."

"What of my company of Dwarfs?" Bilbo asked. "Are they all well? I wish to know who is still alive," Bilbo asked suddenly, reaching out and grabbing Thranduil's forearm.

The Elf sighed but answered, "Your companions are fine. A little bruised and battered but as well as one can be after a battle that fierce."

"What of Thorin?" Bilbo asked gently and Thorin took in a deep breath.

"Master Oakenshield is healing. He is here in this tent if you wish to speak with him."

Thorin watched Bilbo whip his head around searching. "Thorin?" he asked.

"I am here Bilbo Baggins," Thorin replied gently.

Bilbo smiled and Thorin's face fell. He closed his eyes briefly. He had not deserved that smile. After what he had done to Bilbo he should be shunned on the spot. Any Dwarf would have done that. Not smile at the Dwarf who nearly threw him off a mountain.

Bilbo, using Thranduil as a guide, got off the cot and began moving to where he heard Thorin's voice. He thanked Thranduil and dropped to his knees at Thorin's side, and groped around for the Dwarf's hand. Thorin gave it willingly and squeezed lightly when Bilbo pulled it in between his own hands.

"I was so worried about you and about the company. After the whole quest, that it would end in bloodshed. I did not know what to do," Bilbo said, light tears dripping onto the cot. "I wanted to apologize for the whole mess with the stone-" Thorin stopped him before he could continue.

"Bilbo," Thorin said with a harsh tone. He stopped to cough a bit, his deep intakes of breath filling his chest and lungs with a deep pain. Bilbo glanced toward his voice and pulled his hand closer, pressing it against his cheek. "Bilbo, it is I who should apologize to you. You only wanted what was best, and had I taken action and done my part early on and not lusted after the Arkenstone, you would not have run off in the first place to work behind my back for my own good."

Thranduil snorted at that and Bilbo turned to glare at him with tears in his eyes. Thorin raised an eyebrow. Thranduil looked taken aback and shook his head and left the tent.

"Even still I knew that out of all the treasure in the mountain that you wanted most, I took and hid it from you," Bilbo said quietly. A very faint anger rose in Thorin, whatever gold-sickness left him in still angry by the deed of the Hobbit.

Thorin stopped it before it could spread, and looked Bilbo straight into his eyes. "That is in the past now burglar," he said, "do not think of it again. I wish not to feel that rage. My only concern is for my people and for you."

Bilbo nodded his head slowly. He looked left and right and closed his eyes. "Thranduil knows this is long term. I think he only said that it might not be to make me feel better," he answered.

"Then we will see it through. You are the bravest Hobbit I have ever met. We will work this out together," Thorin said moving his hand out of Bilbo's and cupping the Hobbit's cheek. "You have my word."


	2. The Blind can feel

That night when Thranduil returned, Bilbo demanded that his cot be moved next to Thorin's. Thranduil made a bit of protest, but didn't do anything to stop the request. Thorin felt his heart warm at the Hobbit's actions. He did not deserve it but the fact that Bilbo was still willing to lay next to him after what he'd done made his eyes water with unshed tears.

As the Hobbit fell asleep he tangled his hand in the sheets of Thorin's cot. Thorin watched as Bilbo drifted off to sleep. He couldn't fathom how Bilbo was handling his handicap as well as he was. Had he opened his eyes after a battle finding out that he was blind he would have been in a fit of rage. Sight was the most important asset to a Dwarf. Despite their underground nature they relied on their sight to work and battle.

He reached out and touched the soft curls of Bilbo's hair. "Such a simple wound with the worst of outcomes," he whispered.

"It wasn't the rock," Thranduil muttered as he reached over to pull at Thorin's bandages, "and I need you to hold still now," he commanded as he moved the cloth aside.

Thorin winced as he felt the cloth move, the wound felt more raw then it did before. It spread the pain across his chest like wildfire.

"We need to watch the laceration on your left, if you keep twisting around the way you do it will tear and from lockjaw," Thranduil commented as he spread cool slave across his chest.

"What did you mean it wasn't the rock?" Thorin asked, ignoring the king's warnings.

"While the rock knocked him unconscious, it was the fall that did the damage to his sight. As you well know Raven Hill is almost completely made of sharp slate stone. When he fell it is likely that his head hit sharp edges. I have seen this before in the cases of Men. Some that have put Men into a deep sleep that can last years. I was unaware that Hobbits had similar stipulation," the Elvenking said while re-wrapping Thorin's chest.

"So he will not get his sight back?" Thorin dared to ask. Even if Bilbo had lost hope, he wouldn't.

"No," Thranduil answered. The Elf stood and washed his hands in a bucket that some of his Elves had brought in. The tent door opened and both kings turned to it.

Gandalf appeared and looked to Thranduil. "Bard is asking for your attendance in the meeting."

Thranduil nodded as Thorin looked between the Wizard and Elf. "And what purpose does this meeting hold?" he asked darkly.

"Dain Ironfoot is speaking on your behalf Thorin Oakenshield, but it is to decide what is to become of the armies present," Gandalf replied, pushing aside the cloth so that Thranduil could leave. He muttered to Gandalf and looked at Thorin who merely squinted his eyes back at him. Once gone Gandalf sighed and entered the tent.

"Is he well?" The Wizard asked looking at Bilbo.

"He is mostly unharmed," Thorin answered, looking away from the Hobbit as Gandalf neared and placed his hand on Bilbo's chest.

"I heard from Legolas," Gandalf stated as he pulled over a stool from the corner of the room and sat down next to Bilbo's cot. "My dear boy. How can you ever forgive me?" he asked ducking his head. "Your mother would never forgive me for this damage done to you."

Thorin turned his head away. He had never heard Gandalf that melancholic before.

"Will you go back to the Shire?" Gandalf asked. Thorin looked back to the Wizard. Gandalf was looking at Bilbo with such sadness and regret. "Will you go back? Even knowing that you can not see your birth land? To see the party tree in tea lights and the Brandywine in spring or the rolling hills of green?"

Thorin could say nothing. He looked at the sleeping Hobbit who still had his hand wrapped around the sheets of his cot. His nose scrunched up and his eyes kept twitching as if in a state of dreams. Whether they were happy or sad was beyond him.  
  
"What will happen to him if he doesn't go back?" Thorin asked.

"I do not know. I feel that he has a home in the halls of Thranduil and Elrond. What he decides to do will be up to him."

"And what of Erebor?"

"That will be up to him and you," Gandalf said, looking at him pointedly. "Would he be safe? Could you protect him even from yourself? He would be more vulnerable then he was when this quest started. He would need the care and guidance of a friend and companion. He could not be left to his own devices at least for a year," the Wizard stated, narrowing his eyes. "You would be responsible for his fate."

Thorin turned his head away. No he could not consent to those terms. While being a new king, he would not be able to be by Bilbo's side all the time. Nor with the reconstruction of the mountain could he guarantee that Bilbo would always be safe from harm.

"Well, be that as it may, it will be up to him to choose what he wishes to do. Either that he goes back to the Shire or he stays with one of the friends that he has met, it will be up to him," Gandalf stated, hand resting gently on the top of Bilbo's head. "My boy you have changed so much, I am no longer able to make a bet on your own actions," he finished and looked to Thorin "I must go. I will be back tomorrow to check on Bilbo."

As Gandalf left Thorin felt his body grow weary and let sleep take over his mind.

 

 

o-o

When Thorin opened his eyes the next morning it was still dark out. Thranduil was nowhere to be seen but Bilbo was awake next to him. His eyes were open as he stayed on his back to look at the roof of the tent.

"Morning," Bilbo said. Thorin jumped a bit at the suddenness of his voice.

"Morning," Thorin replied.

"Good, I was right."

Had it been that their cots were not side by side, Thorin would never have heard him.

"We will make this work Bilbo," Thorin said, reaching out and just barely touched his arm. Bilbo pulled away and Thorin retracted his hand.

"Sorry, I just wasn't...sorry," Bilbo finally said, groping his hand around until he found Thorin's and grasped his hand tightly. "I wasn't expecting a touch," he added before letting go. "How are you doing? Thranduil said that you should not move in case you tear that wound on your side."

"I will live," Thorin answered, shifting his body. It had grown weak and he felt weary and tired. "How long have you been awake?"  
  
"I don't know entirely. I suppose a couple hours," Bilbo replied.

"You should sleep more, get your rest while you can. Things will get busy soon I should think," Thorin stated. Bilbo's face was torn and his expression was a mix of angry, frustrated, and upset all at once. He sighed and rolled over onto his side facing Thorin.

"I guess that would be best," he said closing his eyes.

It was another hour before Thranduil returned. He was carrying a plate of fruit and placed it on the table next to Thorin's bed. "You should eat, as well as Bilbo. The men will soon be returning to Lake Town to rebuild. Dain has offered them gold in compensation for their troubles in your stead," he said slightly smiling, "though I have heard talk that Bard wants to re-build Dale."

Thorin decided to stay silent rather than relent to the Elvenking's taunts. A bit of anger still lingered in his mind and he bit his tongue until he tasted a bit of blood before he allowed words to slowly leave his mouth, "let them," was all he said.

"You are faring well for a new king who knows not what his people are doing," Thranduil said offering a couple strawberries to Thorin. Thorin took them into his hand and slowly ate them. Choosing once again to be silent. He would not succumb to his anger and urge for revenge while in the presence of Bilbo. He would be the calm Dwarf King that he promised himself he would have been before the fall of Erebor and after his grandfather had gone mad.

"I will check your wounds again," Thranduil said, moving to grab the cloth and wash bucket, "but at the moment I can send for any of your company who you wish to see. Or to tell of Bilbo's condition. I do not want thirteen Dwarrows in this tent all at once, but if you choose so I can send for a few at a time."

Thorin opened his mouth to ask for his sister-sons but he snapped it shut. They were still healing and he didn't think they would take the news of Bilbo's condition well. Balin would be a good voice to break it to the rest of them, but Thorin wasn't ready yet to face Balin. The last time he had seen his oldest friend he had been leveled with fierce disappointment. At the time he hadn't cared but now shame filled his entire being at the thought of his actions. Bofur was Bilbo's closest companion on the journey, but he had a big mouth and was likely to do more damage with his words than help. He went through the company in his head, but none seemed to be the best choice. Oin might be able to help Bilbo understand-

He then realized that his last option was his best choice.

"Can you send for Bifur?"

Thranduil narrowed his eyes and looked at Thorin in confusion before nodding his head and sticking his head out of the tent to send an Elf to look for Bifur.

Bilbo began to stir then and Thranduil kneeled down by his cot. He offered some words in Sindarin and brushed some hair out of Bilbo's face.

"There is some food for you and Master Oakenshield," he said gently. Thorin rolled his eyes and turned away as best he could while the pressure in his chest complained at the new strain.

"Food?" Bilbo asked sleepily and Thorin turned back to look at him, smiling lightly.

Bilbo opened his eyes, blinked a couple times, and rubbed his eyes. Thranduil stopped him and held his hands in his. Bilbo stopped at once and sighed looking down at his hands, muttering slowly "oh."

Thorin's heart broke and he reached out as best as he could to touch Bilbo's arm. Bilbo looked down to the hand on his arm and smiled lightly as he pulled his hand out of Thranduil's and placed it over Thorin's.

"Father," Legolas appeared in the tent window and entered, followed in by Bifur who looked confused and a bit suspicious. As soon as he saw Thorin though he bowed his head. Thorin offered a smile back.

" _I am glad you came friend. Bilbo is awake_ ," he said in Aglab. Bilbo raised his head at Thorin's voice but realizing that he was speaking in Dwarvish looked down again. Thranduil handed him an apple and Bilbo took it, but did not seem ready to eat. Instead he held it and narrowed his eyes at it.

Bifur nodded but still held an air of confusion as he turned to Bilbo who was at the moment holding the apple and twisting it around in his hand.

"If we may have some privacy?" Thorin asked. Thranduil seemed hesitant to comply but nodded his head before he gave a quick pat to Bilbo's shoulder and left the room followed by Legolas.

Bifur moved further into the room and set down his boar spear in the corner then walked to stand by Bilbo's bed. He raised his hand and flipped it from palm down to up in a twist of the wrist. It had been his greeting to Bilbo in the morning. When Bilbo did not respond he narrowed his eyes and looked to Thorin. Bilbo, having heard Bifur move, looked over at the sound but kept silent.

" _Bifur, Bilbo was struck on the head and fell to the ground on slate rock. It has done damage to his head and he is now blind_ ," he said calmly.

Bifur's eyes widened and he looked down at Bilbo who had scrunched up his eyebrows and was looking down at his legs. He seemed upset that Thorin was talking in Aglab to leave him out of the conversation, and Thorin was sure Bilbo had heard his name being said. He almost felt a twinge of guilt for having sent for Bifur, he should have sent for someone else.

Bifur sat down on Bilbo's bed facing the Hobbit. He placed his hands on Bilbo's and took the apple from him to put it down. He then took one hand and raised it to his beard, letting Bilbo get a feel of it, making sure that Bilbo felt the long bead in the center braid.

"Master Bifur," Bilbo said calmly.

Thorin lips tugged upward and he watched as Bifur took both of Bilbo's hands and moved them up to the axe in his head. He rested Bilbo's hands gently on it and pulled them away and drew them against his chest dragging Bilbo toward him and gently resting his forehead on Bilbo's.

Whatever Bilbo had been holding in let out in a flood, and Bilbo collapsed against Bifur and cried. Bifur wrapped his arms around the Hobbit and let Bilbo cry against his chest and didn't even twitch when Bilbo gripped his beard.

Thorin grimaced in pain as he watched Bilbo break down. His eyes watered and he looked away, unable to take in Bilbo's body shaking in frustration. The Hobbit cried for a long time before only soft sobs escaped him. When Thorin had the heart to look back at the two, Bilbo had curled up on his side gripping Bifur's arm. He had his head buried into Bifur's chest while Bifur rubbed circles into his back. His eyes were shut tight, tear stains streaking down the side of his face.

Thorin reached out and placed a hand on Bifur's thigh, nodding his head in silent thanks. Bifur nodded back and pulled Bilbo away from him. Bilbo had long stopped crying and looked up at Bifur when he made a grunting noise. Bifur gave a toothy smile and took one of Bilbo's hands and brought it to his lips so Bilbo could feel that he was smiling. Bilbo grinned back and took his hand away.

"Thank you," was all he said.


	3. I see no Evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay in this! It's been too long. I promise the nexty chapter should be up soon!

The next few days flew past for Thorin. The gash on his side was slowly healing and closing under the watchful gaze of Thranduil while Bilbo remained brave and steadfast. The Hobbit talked little but didn't seem as distant as that first day. Every morning Bifur would come and take Bilbo to see the rest of the company, bringing him back some time after lunch. Thorin himself had few visitors while bedridden. Fili and Kili came when they could, talking about the goings on in the camp and of the company. Dwalin visited without his brother though, which clenched Thorin’s heart that Balin would avoid him.

His fears were put to rest a week later, the first day Thorin could finally sit up without difficulties.

"It is good to see you up lad. We feared the worst when you came back from the battle," Balin said slipping into the tent.

"It's not over yet," Thorin stated. He couldn't look at Balin and instead worked himself to sitting up and arranging the furs around him.

"Lad you are upright and yourself again. I could ask for little more than that," Balin comforted. Thorin looked back up to see his oldest friend and advisor smiling. He was suddenly glad for the lack of Elf or Hobbit in the room as tears welled in his eyes.

"I would never have believed that I would ever see Erebor taken back you know," Balin continued. The elder grabbed a stool and sat down, placing a hand on Thorin shoulder. "After the battle at Khazad-dûm I thought this mission was suicide. We hadn't been able to take back a kingdom from Orcs, how were we to take back a mountain from a Dragon? You have proved me wrong again Thorin. You have a greater strength than your father or your grandfather."

Thorin could only nod as he smiled at the praise. After his father’s disappearance and his grandfather’s death, Balin had been his source of guidance. He'd had an inkling that Balin didn't approve of his decision to go on the quest, but to hear those words made his heart feel right.

"I must go, I cannot stay long. I am to be your voice in the meeting alongside Dain," Balin said squeezing a hand on Thorin’s shoulder. "Give my regards to the Elvenking and to Bilbo. I wish things had been different for the lad."

"I feel very much the same. He is doing well provided."

"Have you offered him to stay here with us? I don't doubt that the lads would welcome him in with open arms," Balin inquired.

"I have not, I would not want him to feel obligated to us or to me. I want him to make his own choice," Thorin replied.

"Still though, I have a feeling that if we wait on him he won’t even consider it a possibility. I would let him know he is welcome," Balin responded. He leveled Thorin with a stern gaze and left the room, leaving Thorin to his thoughts.

 

 

Two days passed and the morning light found Thorin sitting upright on a bench outside the tent. His side had stayed clean and clear of infection. Thranduil, in a passing mercy, allowed him to sit up and walk. Despite his grumbling to Thranduil, he was grateful to the Elvenking for his healing knowledge. After all was said and done they would go back to separate governing kingdoms, but as it stood they were almost civil with one another. They didn't talk about their kingdoms, or the troubles of the outside world. Their animosity was mild and testing the waters of cruel. They both didn't want to be the one to break this very frail truce they had going. It was something Thorin had come to be thankful for.

 The sky was clouded over, but it did not dim the warmth of sunlight his face had sorely needed. It was his first time sitting up and his muscles pulled and ached from their lack of use. He'd lost track of the days he'd spent on that cot. It seemed an eternity though it had only been a passing of a month.

 He reached out for the pipe he had forgotten at his side. He puffed a bit, letting the smoke calm him. The camp was quiet with most of the Men gone back to Lake-town, and it seemed the Elves were returning as well. Some more than others were reluctant to leave their king surrounded by Dwarves. In their defense the Dwarves of the Iron Hills had been in good terms with the Elves, all resentment stayed behind closed tent flaps.

"Thank you Master Bifur."

Thorin snapped his head up and a grin spread across his face as Bifur rounded the corner with Bilbo hanging on his arm, back from his tour of the camp and visitation of the company. Bilbo had been concerned about Kili for the whole afternoon he came back the first time, fretting over the state of the Dwarf and his brother.  Bilbo had slowly begun to rein in his confidence again and Thorin was reminded again of the Hobbit’s strength.

Bifur made a grunting noise in greeting and Bilbo's head picked up from where it had been trying to listen for any clues as to who Bifur had acknowledged.

"Bifur, Bilbo," Thorin greeted, inhaling around his pipe.

Bilbo inhaled and scrunched his eyebrows together as his eye searched around even though Thorin knew he could not see. He'd seen this motion before in Bilbo, it was a habit the Hobbit often had when trying to puzzle something together. "Is that Ol' Toby I smell?" Bilbo asked grinning.

Thorin lifted his pipe to inspect the leaf. "I do not know, Gandalf informed me that this tobacco was the best for healing old wounds and clearing your mind."

Bilbo smiled and pulled his arm away from Bifur. Bifur let him and Thorin only caught Bifur’s lingering gaze, looking every bit the part of a casual companion but also the closest friend that would catch Bilbo if he so much as wavered on his feet.

"May I join you?" Bilbo asked.

Thorin nodded and pursed his lips at his own action. "I would be honored to have your presence burglar."

Bilbo tensed and slowly raised his hands and began to rub his palm. Thorin tilted his head in question, curious about the Hobbit’s reaction. Bifur moved his arms slowly and signed "Arkenstone" to him. Thorin inhaled sharply. He nodded his thanks to Bifur, who looked at both Bilbo and Thorin in sympathy. He put a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder and gripped his arm. He let go and bowed to Thorin before leaving. Bilbo turned his head to listen to Bifur's retreating footsteps.

"I find that a good bowl of tobacco is best shared with a companion," Thorin offered and that seemed to pacify Bilbo, his easy smile returning. He stepped forward and Thorin offered his arm, lightly touching Bilbo's who took it and let the dwarf's arm guide him to the bench taking up on his left side.

"If you would like I can call for someone to bring a spare pipe?" Thorin inquired.

Bilbo only smiled and shook his head. "I don't think that will be necessary," he said with a light chuckle. "Bofur and Bifur worked together to make me a new one," he elaborated as he dug into the over-sized jerkin he wore. Thorin's eyebrows rose when the pipe was revealed. It was beautiful; the stem was thin and narrow, gently curved in rich dark wood. The bowl was deep and wide but the underside and front were carved and inlayed with gems to depict a dragon taking flight. Deep indents inlayed, Thorin guessed, so that Bilbo could trace it with his fingers.

"It is a very fine pipe," Thorin commented, pulling out the bag of leaf to hand to the Hobbit. Bilbo took it and brought it to his lips, a fond smile crossing his features as he closed his eyes and inhaled.

"Ol' Toby, I have missed this smell. I lost mine in the Goblin cave, had I known that Gandalf carried it on his person I might have asked for some back in the halls of Beorn," Bilbo sighed.

"Is it a leaf of the Shire?" Thorin inquired.

"It is. We Hobbits are very proud of it. The Southfarthing village of Longbottom produces the best leaf in all of Middle-earth in my opinion," Bilbo said pinching a bit and stuffing the bowl in his pipe. "You know it was a Hobbit named Tobold Hornblower who brought Pipe-weed to the Shire. Old Toby is named after him."

Thorin hummed in response as he took another inhale of smoke and took the time to really feel experience it. It curled in his lungs and filled his head with a slight dizziness that calmed him.

"You have a match?" Bilbo asked.

Thorin nodded and handed Bilbo the small box of matches Legolas had been kind enough to part with. He opened his mouth to offer Bilbo his assistance but snapped it shut when Bilbo lit the pipe and puffed fluently never stumbling with his hands.

"This is nice, I have missed this dearly over the course of the quest," Bilbo confessed, his face radiant as he took his first inhale. "Just being able to sit, smoke, and feel the sun on my face," he finished.

Thorin cast a glance at Bilbo, the Hobbit’s face was tilted back when he took another deep inhale and when he sighed his chest heaved but his face did not move. Thorin had to wonder what he saw behind those closed eyelids. Did he see his family? His home? The green rolling hills that Thorin had only just seen?

"What are you seeing?" Thorin wondered aloud.

Bilbo opened his eyes and sighed, but kept his head still. "I see the Shire."

Thorin sighed. "I am sorry."

Bilbo turned to look at him, Thorin knew he couldn't see, but the action made him feel better. "I suppose I should be angry with you," he said.

Thorin’s heart caught in his throat.

"But you know, I guess things could be worse. You could be dead. Eru, the whole company could be dead. You could still be under the influence of the gold. You could still be now, I know, but for now, this far from the mountain, I feel like you're you."

Thorin clasped Bilbo on the shoulder. "I can promise you Bilbo, I will never dare to raise a hand to you again. Not after everything you have been through." 

Bilbo smiled in return but it did little else to ease Thorin's guilt.

"When you leave to return to your homeland," Thorin started, "I will make the trip myself to ensure your safety."

"You are in no condition to go anywhere Thorin Oakenshield," Bilbo stated.

"You plan to leave before I am well enough to walk," Thorin countered.

Bilbo hummed and sat back, taking another inhale of smoke.

"I do not know, after everything that has happened. The Shire, Bag End, it all seems too far away. I dream of just sitting in my arm chair reading -" Bilbo cut off with a quick inhale. He raised his head and closed his eyes.

Thorin narrowed his eyes to try and figure out what triggered such a reaction out of the Hobbit. The notion dawned on him and a new wave of guilt slammed into his chest. It seemed he could find little other emotion around the burglar.

"Bilbo," Thorin prompted.

Bilbo took another deep breath and opened his eyes. "Hmmm?"

Thorin didn't reply back and Bilbo didn't prompt. They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, the bustle of the camp their only background noise. Thorin's pipe rested in his hand, the fire having gone out long ago without his puffing. "Bilbo, if you decided not to return home, you would be more -"

"Ah Bilbo!"  Thranduil called. Thorin sighed. The Elf approached the two and bowed lightly to Thorin out of politeness but his focused seemed to be solely on Bilbo.

"Can I help you?" Bilbo asked.

"Yes, I think I may have something that will help you."

Thorin's sat up straighter and turned wide-eyed to Thranduil. Had the Elvenking found a way to help Bilbo's eyes? Bilbo certainly seemed to think the same as his face lit up and was leaning forward.

Thranduil's face fell a bit and he sighed. Thorin's heart sank. No then.

"I cannot fix your sight," he stated and Bilbo visibly shrunk in size, "but it may help with your walking," he continued.

He strode over and kneeled down beside Bilbo and rested a hand on the Hobbit’s knee. From his side what Thorin had thought was a sword was a stick. Thorin narrowed his eyes, how was this supposed to help their burglar?

"If you would stand for me," Thranduil insisted, moving Bilbo's pipe from his hand to the bench.

Bilbo huffed a bit but otherwise complied. He got up and waited.

Thranduil handed the Hobbit the stick. Bilbo grasped it and gently tested it on the ground to check its length. His eyebrows narrowed in silent question.

"Let me explain, as you move you can push this along the ground to know where things are so you can watch your feet so to speak," Thranduil elaborated. Bilbo's eyebrows shot up as he tested this theory, moving it along the ground and found the bench. "It will take time to get used to but I think you will be able to master it, little one," Thranduil continued.

"Thank you," Bilbo said testing it as he moved from the bench to the flap of the tent. It was slow and Bilbo was still shuffling his feet but already Thorin was seeing a bit of confidence that came with a secured freedom. Bilbo smiled wide and turned to where he remembered Thranduil being. "Thank you again, this is brilliant."

Thranduil beamed. "I am glad you like it. Bilbo, have you thought about where you were going to go after everything is done here?" he asked.

"I do not know yet," Bilbo mused as he moved the stick across the ground, grinning every time it hit a rock or tent pole. "You'll have to excuse me your highness, but I think I will wait to see the king returned to his mountain before I think of where I am to go after. It is, after all, what I traveled east to do."

"And Hobbits never venture east," Thorin commented, smirking when Bilbo turned toward his voice smiling.

"Well, when you do know what you wish to do little one, seek me out. You have friends in the woods," Thranduil said bowing.

"You have a friend in me as well Thranduil," Bilbo replied.

"That is good to hear. But I must depart, I have a meeting to attend to with my troops," Thranduil said placing a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "Thorin, I will be back to look at those wounds," he said giving Thorin a nod and strode off to the war tents.


	4. You do not need eyes to hear

The weeks passed by slowly. Thorin remained close to the tent but in stubbornness he attended a few meetings alongside Dain (who was insistent that he remain in charge until Thorin had completely healed) and was brought up to date with the passings that had been going on in his absence. The company sought him out when they could, voicing how happy they were that he was alive and well. He sat with Fili and Kili most evenings, and sometimes Bilbo would join him in the meetings and sometimes not. The Hobbit became more and more content to spend time with the family 'Ur and the brothers 'Ri. Thorin hadn't tried to ask Bilbo to stay again.

"Uncle, what is to become of Bilbo after this?" Fili asked one afternoon. The blond ultimately lost his left eye, the lid closed shut and the area raw and red where an arrow had caught him and infected over the course of his healing. He would not have sight again in that eye, but if the Elves had not been there to see to it when they did, Thorin had no doubt that Fili might have died on that battlefield if it had not been cleaned. His broken leg had him up for months, but over time that would heal.

"I do not know. I believe he is set to return to the Shire as soon as things settle down," Thorin said as he worked on massaging Kili's arm. The major damage on the bowman’s arm and shoulder was finally healing enough to move, but he had little strength in it. It would be years before he could pull a bow string again. Under strict orders Thorin was helping the lad stretch it. It pulled grunts of pain but Kili didn't complain; already he set to work harder so he could once again be the best Dwarf archer of the age.

"He could stay here with us in Erebor, couldn't he?" Fili asked, pulling another drag from his pipe.

"It doesn't hold the best of memories for him though," Kili muttered quietly, but it was enough for Thorin to hear. He pulled away from Kili and sighed.

"That it does. I do not hope for his staying," he idly commented.

Voices drifted in from just outside the tent and Fili leaned forward quickly to put out his pipe. He wasn't supposed to be smoking while healing and had already been caught by the Elven healers. He coughed and dumped the ashes on the ground where Kili stomped them out with the bottom of his boot.

"Well 'tis a tragedy," Bofur hummed as he pulled the tent flap open to reveal Bilbo walking along with his walking stick. Bilbo nodded his thanks and slipped in.

"Bilbo," Thorin greeted.

"Hello Thorin. Fili, Kili," Bilbo greeted back. The Hobbit drifted over to the edge of Fili's bed and sat on it.

"You are improving quickly with that stick," Fili mused.

"It has been a blessing to have, though that still does not stop me from entering the wrong tent from time to time," Bilbo smiled.

Bofur laughed at that and grinned, "That he does. Nearly gave poor Ori a heart attack."

Fili and Kili raised eyebrows but Bofur didn't seem to want to elaborate more, instead he patted Bilbo on the shoulder. "If you would like to help us later, all you need to do is ask for one of us," he said.

"I will," Bilbo promised, his ears giving a twitch when Fili shifted on the bed.

"What is happening later?" Kili asked.

Bilbo only smiled and tapped his nose.

"Fine, keep your secrets," Kili huffed and Fili gave a chuckle.

"It is good to see you in such high spirits, Bilbo," Thorin commented.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Bilbo asked. "It has been a good few passing weeks," he continued as he leaned back. "I didn't think I would live to see the end of this adventure. I didn't know what I was thinking when I ran out my door: Trolls, mountain-giants, Elves, Wargs, Orcs, a Dragon," he huffed out. "Even that dratted barrel ride, but you know what? I'm alive and I could ask for little else these days."

Thorin huffed a laugh.

"Why don't you stay here?" Kili asked, ignoring the look Thorin shot him, "In Erebor. You could live here with us," he finished, only looking away when Thorin grabbed his arm, scowling at his youngest sister-son.

Thorin turned and watched as Bilbo's face seem to fall a little. "I can't answer that Kili. My home is in the Shire," he said softly. "I would miss Bag End too much, and while I will miss you all dearly, I don't know how well I would be received the longer I stay here," he held up his hand the moment Thorin took in a breath to counter. "The company I know would welcome me, and for that I am happy, but Dain's men regard me with apparition as it is. I'm sorry. I will stay long enough for Thorin’s coronation, but I cannot linger."

Kili lowered his head. Fili leaned forward and placed a hand on Bilbo's shoulder and gave a squeeze. "We understand," the blond said with a smile.

Bilbo nodded in thanks. Thorin heaved a sigh. "We best be getting back," he said getting up.

"I suppose. Thranduil will not be happy if we are late," Bilbo said as he got up to take his stick from where it rested against the bed. “I will see you two on the morrow," he said before following Thorin out.

It was a short walk, and if Thorin walked a bit slower than was necessary for his injuries, Bilbo didn't notice.

"I want to extend Kili's offer," Thorin started

"Thorin yo-" Bilbo started but Thorin cut him off.

"Yes, I do. He's right, even if you go back to the Shire, you are always welcome here. You have done a great service to my people and to me.  I was wrong to belittle you when we began this quest. I didn't notice to care you had nothing to lose or gain from following us on this endeavor and you have paid for it with your sight. For that I am sorry," he finished.

Bilbo stopped walking with his head hung. "If I am completely honest, Thorin," he started then faltered as he bit his lip. "I - I have nothing at home: I have Bag End, I have my things, but I have no family. None I am particularly close to at any rate. But the Shire is my birthland."

Thorin felt his hopes lift a bit.

"I will think over your offer. But I cannot guarantee that I will change my stance."

Thorin smiled and gripped Bilbo's shoulder. "I could ask for little else," he said smiling. 

They entered the tent to find Thranduil sitting while looking over some papers on a desk. His brow was furled and his eyes distant. Thorin had to cough to get his attention.

The Elvenking turned his head to look at the two before nodding to Thorin. "Ah, good. Thorin, as your wounds are healing nicely, I feel this will be the last time I need to check on them before I turn you over to your own healers," he stated. The Elvenking stood up and walked over to them, motioning for Thorin to sit on the cot before turning to Bilbo and laying his hand on the Hobbit's shoulder. "How do you fare little one? I hope the walking stick is helping still."

"It has been very useful, Your Highness," Bilbo said smiling. Thorin rolled his eyes and laid down on the cot after removing his shirt. A twang of jealousy hit his stomach like a stone. He envied how well Thranduil and Bilbo seemed to get along.

Thranduil appeared at his side and began to unclip the wrappings around the Dwarf's torso. "All seems in order, Dwarf. In time, too, I will be leaving here to return home. The woods have been infected with darkness; I cannot be away from my kingdom any longer."

"The spiders?" Bilbo asked.

"Yes, but there is something else, something darker than the spiders that I feel will consume the forest before its time."

Thorin huffed and sat up after his bandages had been changed. A silence had filled the tent, but unlike the early days after the battle, it seemed a little less strained. While Thorin still hadn't forgiven Thranduil for abandoning his people, he felt more on equal terms.

"The Men are already making plans to rebuild Dale using the money Dain gave them to pay for the supplies that come from the Men south of here, though I've heard rumors that Bard has been talking to Dain about hiring Dwarf trade."

"It will be good then. If the Men are to rebuild Dale it would do good to keep good relations with them."

Bilbo smiled wide and that didn't seem to bypass Thranduil. "It seems your Hobbit is happy to hear you sound like a proper Dwarf King."

Thorin remained quiet though he did give a small smile in Bilbo's direction. It had been days since he had felt the pull of the gold sickness and he relished the thought that even at the meetings he didn't feel the need to horde the gold the way he had before.

"I would request after your coronation remuneration to compensate for the loss of lives and the aid my people have given you over the last few weeks," Thranduil continued, seeming to try and keep on Thorin’s good side. "You can get up now," he commented as he returned to his papers.

"You are merely repaying us for the day you abandoned us to Smaug," Thorin stated, idly pulling on his shirt.

Thranduil stilled as his whole body went rigid. He pulled up to his full height and looked down his nose at Thorin. "Are you implying that you still intend to not give compensation to me and my people, even after we - 'I' took mercy and brought you back from the dead!" he said. The atmosphere in the room suddenly became tense.

"What mercy?" Thorin barked back, his old rage flaring up slowly; it was time for this to be settled. He was glaring daggers at the Elvenking and didn't notice Bilbo slipping closer to stand by Thranduil. "The mercy you showed after you turned and left my people to die at the hands of Smaug!"

"The price your grandfather paid for his greed," Thranduil growled quietly. "You forget, Dwarf, I had kin in that mountain as well. Trade delegates who the forest never saw again. You seem to take my refusal of aid as a personal offense, son of Thrain, but Thror knew what he was getting himself into when he became too obsessed with his gold," the Elf barked. "A king should know better than to put his people in danger," he finished.

Thorin clenched his fist. He glared up at the Elf, his restraint almost breaking to not strangle the other. Something began to grip his mind but it muddled his thoughts and he paid it no mind, "Then why not help?! Why leave the rest of us to die when you could have made a difference. Too cowardly I suppose," Thorin countered. He knew he was being unreasonable, but at the moment he was angry enough not to care.

 "You saw his sickness grow, he put his own people in danger. I was not about to risk my life for a man who willingly put his kin at risk. One ill rabbit will kill the whole lot in time. There was nothing ANYONE could have done."

Thorin breathed in hard.

"I had hoped that in your time in exile you would not fall prey to your grandfather’s sickness. Or after your close encounter with death you would beat it and return from it. But I can see that it's something you can't run from. You are weak, Thorin Oakenshield."

"You will not see one coin of that gold. DO YOU HEAR ME!" Thorin yelled.

It was at that moment that he caught sight of Bilbo. The Hobbit was grasping at Thranduil's tunic, breathing hard with his head down and tears in his eyes. He looked ready to bolt...in fear. Fear of Thorin.

Everything stopped. Thorin took a step back, his head clear as day. Remorse and guilt built up as he kept his eyes on the Hobbit.

"Bilbo..." Thorin whispered, his voice cracking. Bilbo flinched.

"Mahal. Bilbo, I..." he pleaded. He looked up to Thranduil who had an unreadable expression. The Elf placed a hand on Bilbo’s head, soothingly moving his curls. Thorin felt like vomiting. "Bilbo - " Thorin was at a loss for words. Suddenly his mind couldn't comprehend itself. He was lost. The gold sickness, he was still infected with it. He couldn't ask again for Bilbo to stay. Not when Thorin couldn't trust himself anymore. Not even out here, still surrounded by those who stayed loyal to him and fought at his side, and lost loved ones without a glint of gold in sight.

"I think, Thorin, this is where we part ways. I must go back to my kingdom. The forest grows darker each day and my people will need me to guide them. I will leave you to your cold mountain. I will not ask for your blood gold."


	5. In the land of the blind

Thorin turned his back to Thranduil the moment he stepped out of the tent. He did not know if Bilbo followed but he didn’t want to turn, for heartbreak if he did and shame if he didn’t. It took two seconds before Thorin turned around again and was out of the tent chasing after Thranduil as quickly as his injury would allow, pointedly not looking for his Hobbit.

“Thranduil!” he called.

The Elf hadn’t gone far and Bilbo wasn’t with him. Good or bad, Thorin didn’t know.

“What do you want Dwarf?” Thranduil barked.

“How much?” Thorin asked. His head held back in pride.

“What?” Thranduil countered, pulling back to scan Thorin’s face.

“I said how much? How much gold do you want?” Thorin asked again, trying to keep his face a mask of calm. After his short outburst, they had quickly gathered a crowd; Elves looking onto their king, waiting to see if a fight would break out, Dwarves curious as to what was happening and Dwalin among them. He looked right at Thorin in silent question. Thorin could only nod quickly before returning his attention to Thranduil.

“As I said before I will ask no more for your gold, Thorin Oakenshield,” Thranduil stated, moving to turn away.

“Then I will give it to you,” Thorin replied. Thranduil stopped and faltered, as did the crowd. Dwalin’s eyebrows shot upward.

Thranduil was struck silent, his mouth slightly agape in mute shock. He searched Thorin’s face for any sort of jest, finding none his face turned to its normal indifference, “You would give it to me?"

“Yes,” was all Thorin said. “I will give you one-fourteenth of the gold.”

The crowd gave a slight gasp. Dwalin had moved from the crowd to the tent, most likely to find Bilbo to see what had happened to lead to this.

“You would give me one-fourteenth share of the gold?” Thranduil questioned. Thorin nodded. “And just who’s fourteenth of the share would I be getting, yours? As I recall you already have a fourteenth share out for the Arkenstone currently in Bard’s possession.”

“Bard can keep it. Bilbo’s share will go to Bilbo; he has more than enough earned it.”

“Then you can give him mine,” a soft voice rose up from the crowd.

Both kings turned to look at Bilbo, who was standing next to a very confused Dwalin, his face unreadable.

“If my share is not to be traded for the Arkenstone then I will gladly give it to the Mirkwood Elves.”

“Bilbo?” Thorin began, but went silent as Bilbo put up his hand.

“No, Thorin. What am I going to do with a load of gold? I am a simple creature; I would rather see it go to somewhere that it may be of use. I owe Thranduil enough as it is with all the food that I stole in my time there.”

At this confession Thranduil looked Bilbo over, as if expecting more to this that would explain the missing part of the tale.

“I believe that is a story better left for another time, I think,” Bilbo commented and that seemed to pacify the Elf.

“Besides, Thorin, how would I carry that much gold back to the Shire? I’d only be ambushed and killed before I got to the MistyMountains, even with the biggest caravan,” Bilbo said, closing his eyes and opening them again. “If I did, what would I do with it? I have one of the biggest smials in all of Hobbiton, and not all the gold in all of Middle-earth can buy me my reputation back. No, it’s best if it goes somewhere better,” Bilbo finished.

‘Then why did you agree to come?’ Thorin wanted to ask, but Bilbo had already expressed that gold was far from what tempted the Hobbit.

“Bilbo, your selflessness surpasses none,” Thranduil declared walking over to the Hobbit and leaning down, “But I will not ask for gold anymore. I feel that it will only tempt madness the more lust after it. Instead,” Thranduil said standing up and turning to Thorin, “I will ask, given the circumstances that if the darkness in my woods gets worse, that we can depend on the Dwarves of Erebor.”

Thorin’s eyes widened. He half wished Thranduil was asking for gold again. The Elf was asking for aid when called upon, even after Thranduil left them. He suddenly had flashbacks to the years of exile, the death of his grandfather and loss of his father. Thranduil was asking for something beyond gold: the lives of those in Erebor. He looked to Dwalin and Bilbo; Dwalin had put his hand on Bilbo and was quietly talking to the Hobbit. While out of the gold-sickness, Thorin could plain as day see that the lives of his kin were priceless to that of gold.

The Elvenking was asking for something Thorin couldn't give. Dwalin muttered something and Bilbo replied, of what Thorin did not know but the Hobbit gave a small half smile. No, maybe he wasn't, Thranduil wasn’t asking for gold. He was asking for an alliance with Erebor under the veil of a bait. He was silently making a treaty that in need the kingdoms would call to each other’s call. Or so Thorin hoped.   

“Yes,” Thorin answered hastily. 

“Yes?” Thranduil and Dwalin echoed.

“Yes, should you need us, you only need to call. If you would, though, we will need time before we are even ready to give anyone aid; the halls are in ruin and the food is going to be scare this winter, it will not be years before we are a true kingdom again, but I know that in time we will be as strong as we were before.”

Thranduil huffed and looked down at Thorin from his nose. While it still rubbed him the wrong way, the Elf seemed to have lost his strong stance, Thorin had really shocked him. Thorin smirked. “It seems Durin’s heir that you will be a greater king than even your grandfather,” the Elf concluded.

With that, Thranduil turned around and walked away, and slowly the Elves and Dwarves seemed to scatter. Thorin released the air he didn’t know he’d been holding. All the tension seemed to leave his body and he was ready to fall.

“Thorin?”

Thorin turned around and found Bilbo next to him, Dwalin not too far away. Bilbo wore a smile, one of pride and all genuine. Thorin beamed down at the Hobbit even though he knew Bilbo could not see. He grabbed Bilbo’s shoulders and pulled the ex-burglar to him. Bilbo gave a chuckle and gripped Thorin, being careful of his wounds.

“I can’t believe you agreed? He was baiting you, I don’t think he thought you would agree. I didn’t think you would agree,” Bilbo admitted. “You will be a great king,” Bilbo stated and pulled back to place his hands on Thorin’s face, moving to grip the braids on the sides of Thorin’s head and tugged on them. “It’s going to be hard and you will have to deal with the Elves now, and Thranduil is going to think he can walk all over you.”

Thorin gave a short laugh but moved to put his hands over Bilbo’s anyway. “I think I’ll manage, I have the best support, it’s-” Thorin started. _It’s all because of you, and I really would like it if you stayed_ , but he could not bring himself to say it, he wanted Bilbo to decide for himself.

“Well in any case, I need to get back to Bifur and Bofur. Dwalin?” Bilbo asked, letting go of Thorin. Dwalin was there instantly, clapping Thorin on the shoulder. “I still don’t like him and I don’t trust a word he says, but maybe it’s better this way,” he said before walking away with Bilbo.

“Bilbo?” Thorin called. Bilbo turned around and somehow looked right at Thorin. “What is going on?”

Bilbo smiled and tapped his nose before walking away again. Thorin gave a half smile and headed back to his tent.

He collapsed the moment he hit his cot. Outside things were starting to move, the Elves starting to head back to the forest. It would be months before Dain and his army left and even longer for the caravans from Ered Luin to come, Dis among them. Thorin smiled, if only Dis could see him now.

Thorin gripped his side, the stress from the last hour seemed to be at last getting to him. He laid down throwing an arm across his face.

“I’m impressed, Master Dwarf.”

Thorin sat up quickly, so fast he was sure he tore something and felt a twinge of pain hit him.

“I am sorry,” Gandalf apologized, though there was mirth behind his voice and a mischievous light behind his eyes.

“What do you want, Wizard?” Thorin asked.

“I am merely here to congratulate you on your handling of the Elves,” Gandalf mused. “Months ago you would have not even thought of talking to an Elf.”

“Things change and I have had my eyes opened a couple times on this quest,” Thorin commented, looking back.

“Bilbo,” Gandalf said with a small laugh. “Hobbits truly are amazing beings.”

“That they are,” Thorin replied back. He didn’t even want to think what would have happened if Bilbo hadn’t been on this adventure. _Dead as far back as the trolls probably_. 

“I have known of them a long time and yet every time I see them I am amazed even more. They are resilient, and despite whatever darkness plagues the world, they remain a beacon of peace and comfort.”

“They learn very little of the world though,” Thorin commented, looking back at Gandalf.

“Ignorance is bliss, but they prove to handle themselves in it more than enough times. Bilbo’s mother Belladonna was no stranger to Elves or to Dwarves. Lord Elrond in particular was a close friend.”

“The Elf Lord?” Thorin asked. “That would explain why Bilbo was allowed to be with us at the moon rune reading.”

“No, that was my choosing. I had a feeling Bilbo needed to hear that, he had a place to play in this quest and every detail needed to be told. Elrond, I think, didn’t even know his name at that moment. Mayhap on the way back we’ll stop at Rivendell,” Gandalf mused.

“You will be traveling back to the Shire?” Thorin asked.

“Of course, I will see Bilbo home; it is after all me that set him up to this. It would be cruel of me to send him back home alone. Though I have heard rumors that you will be heading back as well with him when the time comes.”

Thorin did not know how Gandalf could have possibly heard that as a rumor but just shook his head and told himself it was just Gandalf being Gandalf. “I will. Fili can rule in my stead or Dain if he can spare the time away from the Iron Hills,” Thorin mused. “It will be less time than our way here but I will make the journey for Bilbo’s sake.”

“I am surprised at you, I would have thought you would offer him a place here,” Gandalf questioned.

“Kili did and I extended it. I’m sure other members of the company have as well, but I will let him make his own choice. Thranduil even asked if Bilbo would stay with the Elves,” Thorin said with a huff.

“Hmmm. He is well liked. Elrond himself offered Bilbo a place to stay as well. As he should be, that boy has been through way too much, it will do him good to know that he is welcome anywhere.”

“This journey has been very difficult, that is sure,” Thorin muttered idly, rubbing his wound.

“I’m afraid Bilbo has fared less even before my intervening.”

“What do you mean?” Thorin asked.

“As you well know, his parents died young and Bilbo had to grow up faster than he should have. I think it cost him his youth but may have been what made him reckless enough to run out the door after thirteen Dwarves and a Wizard.

“I had no idea about his parents,” Thorin said quietly.

“Really, I would have thought you would have known about that. After a year on the road I’m surprised he never brought it up or talked about it,” Gandalf sighed, genuinely surprised.

"No, I didn't know. I knew they had passed, well at the very least I assumed. His home had been very empty and too large for one Hobbit. I had not known they had died young. What happened?"

“That is not my place to say if Bilbo has not talked about it,” Gandalf answered. He muttered to himself a bit then lit a pipe.

Silence fell over the tent and Thorin was left to his thoughts. They darkened again over how he treated Bilbo in the beginning of their journey. Had he been so narrow-minded that he hadn’t been able to appreciate all the help he got no matter where it came from?

Thorin didn’t know how much time passed, but he was just started to feel the drags of sleep wash over him when he heard a voice.

“Thorin?” it called from the tent flap. Thorin turned to see it was Balin and Ori, who were calmly smiling from the entrance.

“Balin, Ori? Can I help you?” he asked, smiling at his kin.

“If you would follow us?” Balin asked and tapped his nose.

_Ah, this would be what Bilbo was talking about earlier._

“Gandalf you are more than welcome to join us as well,” Ori piped up, looking at the Wizard.

Gandalf smiled, tipped out his pipe, and waved his hand. “I will have to pass. I have a meeting I must attend to with some contacts,” he said and stood up as best as he could in the Dwarf tent. Though it had been raised for Thranduil, it was still a tad too short for the Wizard.

As soon as he left Thorin stood up to his full height. There was still an ache still but nothing he couldn’t handle. “Balin, what is going on?”

“Bombur and Bilbo have been cooking, and the company is in need of connection and alone time.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow but didn’t press and only followed Balin and Ori out of the tent.


	6. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be updated with the last chapter but I had some family business and just got the chapter up before I had to run.

When they entered the woods beyond the camp, Thorin began to cast odd side glances to the two. If they were going to eat why not do it in a tent?

“Uncle, good to see they got you!” Kili called. He was holding a bowl of a strong, savory smelling stew. “You have got to try this,” he insisted sitting back down on the log next to his brother.

Thorin raised an eyebrow and looked around, the whole company was crowded around an open fire and in the center was Bilbo and Bombur talking and pulling something out of a heavy cast iron pot. Bombur doing most the work, but Bilbo seemed to be at the heart of it.

“Ah Thorin, glad you could join us,” Gloin called from his seat.

They were far away from the war tents and the lasting scent of burning bodies. Instead the smell of trees and the crisp fall air made Thorin believe that they weren’t at the foot of Erebor, but back on the road. Just a small ragtag company of Dwarves and a Hobbit from the Shire.

“Thorin?” Bilbo asked.

“I am here,” Thorin responded automatically.

“Good, here I’ll get us bowls; we’re the last to eat. I hope you don’t mind it out here, we thought it might be good to get away from the camp for a while.”

When Thorin raised an eyebrow, Bofur took over to explain.

“We wanted time with the company; ever since the Elves have started to leave, we’ve been all but coddled since. If I have to turn down another marriage offer from a father, I’m goin’ throw my mattock and myself into the nearest river,” he growled, his mustache twitching as he spoke.

“He’s not the only one,” Nori grimaced, closed his eyes as though plagued by the memories.

“It seems everyone knows that each member of this company will be walking away pockets full,” Balin commented. “We’ve all had little peace to ourselves. Consider yourself lucky, lad, that Thranduil has permitted very little entry to your tent,” Balin finished thoughtfully.

“You’ve been proposed to?” Thorin asked, looking at his oldest advisor.

Balin gave a short laugh. “No. I myself haven’t had a marriage proposal, can’t say as much for my brother though.”

Thorin looked over to Dwalin, who was glaring daggers at Balin.

“So that’s why we decided that it might be a good idea to share a dinner anywhere but at camp, where we won’t be ambushed,” Ori commented, taking his seat next to his brother.

Thorin smiled and shook his head as the Dwarves began trading stories.

“Fili, Kili?” Thorin asked.

“We’ve been lucky. Oin has all but run anyone with a suitor proposal out the door,” Fili said, smiling at Oin who puffed up with pride.

“Even Bilbo got asked once as I recall,” Bofur added, smiling to himself. He looked over to Bilbo who had just taken out a loaf of bread and proceeded to glare in Bofur’s direction.

Thorin shook his head as the conversation changed again in other directions and strode over to Bilbo’s side. “Would you like any help?” he asked.

“If you would not mind carrying my bowl, I would be grateful,” Bilbo said, holding a bowl out for Thorin and himself.

Thorin took it and followed Bilbo as the Hobbit pushed his stick along the ground and found the log with Fili and Kili and sat down next to the boys.

“It’s not just marriage proposals; the entire company has been plagued by others trying desperately to get on their good sides. I had to save poor Ori from a group of soldiers’ demanding to know what Ori needed for his work.”

“Is that why you have been away most evenings?” Thorin asked.

“No, I miss the company but I would be lying if I didn’t say I don’t find humor at their expense. Nori has been very popular, finding himself asked left and right to court. I wasn’t aware how much long hair was admired among your people.”

“You’re not bothered by it?”

“His hair?”

“No, the asking of courtship; I know that most other races don’t - It's not common for the courtship of the same sex.”

“I can’t say I’m used to it, but I’ve long since noticed that while your women are well disguised to the eyes of Hobbits and Men with their facial hair, they’re not abundant. It would only seem natural then that you would marry out of sheer love and not for the object of reproduction.”

“You make it sound so scholarly,” Thorin muttered.

“To Hobbits it might be, Hobbits are very family oriented, but even in the Shire it’s not uncommon for two to marry out of family merging or for reputation status. Still there are many children in the Shire. I do so love the little ones. I feel that upon my return I will find myself the center of attention of the children. I may have lost the adults but an untainted child’s mind is the easiest to entertain with stories about exiled kings, trolls, spiders, Elves, and a dragon.”

“Do you want children?” Thorin asked carefully.

“I am far too old to want children. I passed that age a long time ago. No I think I will content to story-telling.”

“What about to marry?”

“I do not know. I will have to wait for my arrival back to Hobbiton. I fear my reputation in the Shire may be tainted too far to be able to court.”

Thorin opened his mouth but snapped it close. The conversation died and they remained silent except for Kili and Fili arguing about something or another but it was a comfortable silence.

Bilbo ate his stew in silence, and though it was good, Thorin could not bring himself to eat. He kept looking around the camp. Thirteen Dwarves, some of whom had no connection to him prior to the quest. If word was right Bofur only came to the first meeting because he heard there would be free beer. Dori and Nori only signing on because Ori did.

It warmed Thorin that these thirteen Dwarves came to him in his time of need and traveled across Middle-earth with him. Grumbled and complained, but had pulled their weight and made it happen.

Sure, there was gold, but now with Erebor reclaimed and his mind clear, Thorin saw that the gold was nothing in value to the company that he held now. Nori who had only come for the gold was now sitting with Ori and Balin, cursing the large amount of gold and what it had wrought.

He laughed a little and Bilbo turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Something funny?” he asked.

Thorin smiled and shook his head.

“Thorin, I can’t see you shake your head,” Bilbo said, shaking his own head in exasperation.

“Then how did you know I shook my head?” Thorin questioned.

“I could feel you. What has got you in such a good mood?” Bilbo asked.

“Just fate,” Thorin stated. That didn’t seem to satisfy Bilbo but he let it drop.

“Gandalf talked to me after you left with Dwalin.”

“Hmmm,” Bilbo hummed around a mouthful of stew. Thorin wasn’t sure how to press on. He wanted to know about Bilbo’s parents. It did seem odd that after a year Thorin knew almost nothing about Bilbo’s family besides the Sackville-Baggins and their own variety of greed.

“He talked about you for a bit, he mentioned something but told me it wasn’t his place to explain,” Thorin started.

“My parents?” Bilbo supplied and Thorin nodded before catching himself.

“You are too clever for your own good, but yes. I was wondering what happened? I had known that they were passed, but I did not know that they passed young,” Thorin pressed.

Fili and Kili had stopped talking, and sensing that this was a conversation best left to just burglar and king, they left and instead decided to interrogate Bofur about his marriage proposals.

“Well,” Bilbo started, “My father was a well-to-do Hobbit, kind and gentle. He built the home you Dwarves unceremoniously entered by his own hands for my mother. They had, well they had planned to have many children but my mother’s body couldn’t handle it. My father died one fall, caught a nasty cough. No one had ever seen a sickness that dire. My paternal grandfather blamed my mother, said she’d brought something back from Bree that killed him.”

“Do you believe that?” Thorin inquired.

“I don’t know, I was very ignorant at the time, while it is possible that’s what happened and very likely. I wouldn’t blame her. My mother and father loved each other despite the family that didn’t approve.”

Thorin hummed in question.

“The Baggins are a very respectable family. No adventures for them, I’m probably the first Baggins in history to every leave for one. My mother on the other hand is a Took; the Tooks are a very daring family of Hobbits, my mother especially. She traveled a lot in my youth. She was friends with Lord Elrond,” Bilbo said and sighed. “I do wish I could have talked to him more,” he muttered.

Before Thorin could interject with comfort, Bilbo continued, “Eight years after my father’s death, Fell Winter hit the Shire. Food was scarce and my mother decided it might be safer for us to go to a closely related family in Brockenboring. It was just up the hill, a little closer to the mountain side and a bit more sheltered against the cold,” Bilbo stated, but he had stopped eating and had his head bowed. “Just outside the village we were attacked by wolves. My mother, she told me to climb a tree and to stay there while she drove them off. I trusted her so I got into the tree and stayed there.”

“How long were you in the tree?” Thorin asked.

At this Bilbo gave a small sad laugh. “Two days,” Bilbo answered.

Thorin gawked. Beside him Bilbo was playing with the end of the stick, rubbing his thumb along the carving on the side.

“The Bounders found her first and then went looking for me. She didn’t make it, I don’t know how she died, and they never explained it to me. Told me it was better that I didn’t know. Every winter it does haunt me that I don’t know how my mother died, only that she did.”

They sat like that for a while in silence. Finally Thorin knew he had to say something. “Master Baggins, despite that experience you held your ground to wargs, orcs, spiders and a dragon. I am again in awe of your courage.” 

Bilbo smiled and Thorin placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, for telling me. I know that can’t be easy no matter how much time has passed.”

“It doesn’t but it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to share it,” Bilbo mused.

“Bilbo?” Thorin started. Bilbo looked at him and tilted his head. “I was wondering, would you be adverse to staying in Erebor-”

“Thorin you know…”

“Now hold on,” Thorin said, “I am asking if you would stay in Erebor through the winter and into spring. It’s going to be tough getting Erebor back to its former glory and it would put my mind at ease to know that you’re here to help.”

“Thorin I won’t be much help,” Bilbo interjected, brings his hands up to his eyes.

Thorin winced and grabbed Bilbo’s hands and pulled them towards him. “No Bilbo, it would, you-” Thorin sighed, trying to find the right words. “I would be comforted by your presence. I think things are going to get worse before they get better. Your words put my mind at ease and I know that I wasn’t in the best of minds that last time you tried to get me to reason, but I….”

“Thorin,” Bilbo whispered. He pulled his hands out of Thorin’s and cupped his face, moving slowly to touch his beard and forehead. “I will stay through the winter, but if you fall to the dragon sickness, I don’t think I could go through that again,” he said. Then with more strength than Thorin thought possible, Bilbo pulled his head so their foreheads met. “You have to promise me, King Under the Mountain, all that is gold does not glitter.”

“I promise.”


	7. Over the hill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter to the first part in this series, do not worry there will be more.

Gandalf, for lack of better words, was gaping at Bilbo from across the tent.

“I am surprised; I would have thought you would have wanted to go back to the Shire as soon as possible,” Gandalf puzzled.

Bilbo sat still on the cot, keeping his hands busy by folding rags and bandages. His movements were true and unfazed despite his lack of sight. “I will, Gandalf, when I feel ready to return. But until that time I am asking you, as a friend, can you please go make sure Bag End is safe and not in the hands of those who think me dead?” he pleaded again. “I will return in the spring. I promise,” Bilbo assured looking up in the direction of the Wizard.

Gandalf gave Thorin an odd look with an emotion he couldn’t put a finger on and muttered around the stem of his pipe. Minutes passed before the Wizard groaned. “I will check on Bag End and send word back,” he promised.

“Thank you,” Bilbo replied with just a hint of exasperation in his voice. He had hoped Bilbo would regain a lot of his peevish nature back and he was pleased to see his hopes were not all malarkey.

“Bilbo!?”

The three members of the tent turned to Kili who was now bursting through the tent door. The boy’s arm was out of the sling ultimately but – to the youngest prince’s dismay – he still did not have full range of motion yet.

“Yes Kili, Fili,” Bilbo offered as Fili made his way in the tent, leaning heavily on his crutch.

“How did you know it was me?” Fili asked bewildered.

Bilbo smirked, “Where else would you be? I can also hear your crutch, I was guessing based off that.”

Gandalf gave a small chuckle and Thorin had cast aside all indifference and was openly grinning.

“Oh! Well, yeah I guess you can – anyway we just came back from Bifur and Bofur; the east wing is properly open and they are already clearing the hallway and getting ready for your move into the mountain!” Kili declared.

“So soon?” Bilbo gasped. “I would have thought it would take longer.”

“Well Smaug’s major damage was to the market place, the Crafters’ Hall, along with the forge and most of the meeting halls and definitely the throne room, but the housing wall and the royal rooms were kept intact as well as the green balconies,” Fili explained. “Some of the soldiers offered to help clean out and are working as we speak. They were impressed that all of the homes’ integrity and waterways were much unaffected by time. A bit of rust here and there but nothing we can’t easily fix or make a temporary rig for.”

“What about Dain’s men?” Bilbo asked rolling up bandages.

“According to Balin a majority of them are going to be working nonstop and Thorin already gave permission for the barracks to be put to use, hosting them for the meantime,” Fili replied sitting down next to Bilbo, stretching as much as he could of his leg as he rubbed his thigh.

“The Dwarves that came from Erebor that went to live in the Iron Hills have already come seeking my approval of their move back. I also received a reply from your mother that she will be sending the first wave of caravans here within a three months’ time.”

“Mother!” Kili piped up. “Is she coming?” he asked.

“Not yet, she is waiting for the last trip; she, as much as I do, wants to see everyone here and happy before she comes home.”

“Oh,” said the brunet, his posture dipping a bit. Fili looked at his brother but even the blond’s smile was tight. They both missed their mother fiercely. Thorin wasn’t ignorant, the battle had opened their eyes just as much as his. Family and friends were something to love when you could and never later. A lesson Thorin was hard-pressed to have learned almost a little too late. He looked at Bilbo who was humming and had now taken over massaging Fili’s leg, the prince hissing between each press. Bilbo gave small encouragements and muttering something about ‘Durin stubbornness.’

Lifting his head he addressed his sister’s sons, “I have put some thought into it and I was thinking of sending a small party to help with the last caravan. I think the two of you could handle that,” he said grinning. His nephew’s head snapped up.

“Truly!?” Kili begged.

Thorin nodded, “I am no stranger to your wishes. Ered Luin is for all intent and purpose your birth home; Dis herself was no more than seventy when we found it. I think it would do you good to visit it one last time before you settle here.”

The matching grins that they gave him could have lit up even Mirkwood’s dark boughs.

Gandalf stood up and Thorin looked to the grey Wizard. “It seems it is time for my departure. Thorin, Fili, Kili: your quest is done and I wish you well. Bilbo I will see that Bag End is safe and I hope to meet you again in the spring, I may even join you on the road home,” Gandalf moved and put a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “Your parents would have been very proud of you my boy, stay safe and may you find happiness that your adventure is nearing its end and that you are but a few more steps from home.”

“Thank you Gandalf,” Bilbo said and faltered a bit before adding, “for everything. I do not know where I would be now without you.”

Gandalf smiled and squeezed the Hobbit’s shoulder. “I dare say, Master Hobbit, that you would be very unhappy and much rounder,” he said. “Until our next meeting,” he finished and left the tent.

“I feel as though I should be insulted somehow,” Bilbo mused.

“Most do at the hands of a Wizard,” Thorin commented. “Though I’ve found Hobbits to be much the same.”

Hobbit and Dwarf stayed in tense silence before Bilbo broke it with a small chuckle. “Dwarrows are just as easy to insult. But I must ask: what are green balconies?”

“Something I have a feeling you are going to like,” Thorin commented, “but it will have to wait. Kili, do you know when we are supposed to move?”

“They said anytime you’re ready. Fili and I have moved most of what we have into the mountain. We weren’t sure which room we would, uh, well they haven’t touched the king’s chambers, mother’s, yours or…” he trailed off, looking to Fili who only gave a half smile.

“Most likely Fili will get my old room and you will take Frerin’s,” Thorin answered, giving a shrug. Kili winced and his face twisted painfully.

“Kili, it has been nearly a century, while I will miss him I doubt that I would do his memory any favor by holding onto a room of dust.”

That seemed to do the trick and Kili smiled a little brighter. “I think,” Thorin started, “that if Bilbo is ready, it is time we finally go home.”

“I would like to be out of this tent. I have grown used to the smell out here and that alone says we have lingered on this tainted land too long.”

They moved slowly, Bilbo adjusting to the cold stone and in some places cracked and broken apart where Thorin had to help guide him. He caught him more than a few times before said Hobbit could fall. They were an awkward pair, slow moving. All of the Family ‘Ur – who had joined them at the gates – offered to help, but king and burglar refused. Every now and then Thorin would tell a story about something or another through the long hallways.

Soon the ground evened out and all that was left was the dust and mold from time and neglect. As they neared the east wing, which belonged solely to the Royal Chambers, Thorin had to stop a few times to feel the wall or knock on a rock.

He felt for the nicks in the wall where he and his siblings had played with axes and swords. He longed for the sweet smell of distant food, fresh cotton blankets, his father’s pungent leather oil, and his mother’s too sweet scented oils that she used to comb into her beard. In its place was the crusty feeling of dust in his nose and stale air that had him taking deeper breaths. Even though he could tell there had been some cleaning done, it still felt hollow and empty.

“Thorin?” Bilbo prompted from his arm.

The Dwarf King hummed in response and clasped a hand over Bilbo’s. “While we had glimpsed this area while trapped, it feels different to know that we will finally be living here. After everything,” he stated. No more needed to be said.

“It’s rather something. Can’t say I’m used to a mountain this big. Ered Luin just goes on and on, but I’ve never seen rock go straight up like this,” Bofur idly commented from the front. “I’ve also never seen beds made into the rock before. That something all the apartments have?” he asked.

“It was a fashion of its time, yes,” Thorin idly commented. Suddenly he thought of something that had long escaped his mind: the family ‘Ur was not of Erebor. While they pledged alliance to Thorin, would they stay or would they take their fourteenth shares and go back? It was never said in their contract what the family would do after all was done. “Bifur, Bofur, Bombur?” he called as he came to a stop. The sudden thought of losing them was a blow Thorin was not ready for. He had grown to appreciate the Dwarves who not only were of lower class, but of a completely different clan who should have had no ties to him.

All three turned to look at him, Bofur cocking his head to the side in silent question. “Do you plan to stay in Erebor? Or go back to the Blue Mountains?”

“Uh well,” Bofur began obviously caught off guard, “we were kinda hopin’ to stay here, we don’t have much at home to go back to, you see.”

“We have some family of course: my wife and two Dwarflings,” Bombur added. Bifur was looking Thorin in the face, eyes narrowed.

“They and any others are all welcome,” Thorin reassured, letting out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Let me know if there is anything at all I can do,” he stated and walked ahead, feeling a bit better. He could have sworn he’d heard Bofur behind him mutter “that was odd” before following.

The door to his old room was broken and busted and in its place was a heavy cloth on pegs. He moved it aside and took a step inside his youth for the first time after what seemed a lifetime, with Fili and Kili trailing behind him. Bilbo had stayed with the family ‘Ur, sensing that this was something for Thorin and his kin alone.

“It’s huge!” was the first thing out of Kili’s mouth. “And has a balcony!” he shouted. Thorin smiled. New Belogost, also known as Thorin’s Hall, had been built into the side of the mountain, a stronghold and haven for the Longbeards exiled from the east. Its placement and housing had been in the mountain itself, not touching the outside. It was all his nephews had ever known. Erebor’s royal housing had been placed single file along a ridge on the east side, each with its own balcony and gaping windows.

“Uncle?” a voice called, pulling Thorin from his remembrance. Kili and Fili were standing over a table in the corner and he could feel heat painting his cheeks. “What are all the bottles for?”

Thorin gave a small cough, “It was customary for the royal family to have strong scented oil to be used in our beards. A long forgotten tradition that I would rather see tossed with the dust.”

“Oh come on it can’t be that –” Fili started after he uncorked one bottle and nearly dropped it as his head was thrown back. He capped the bottle and placed it down, covering his mouth.

“Mahal’s hammer!” the prince swore and Kili chuckled beside him, patting his back.

“They were strong scented in their time, I can imagine after over a century of shelf life has only made it more putrid.”

Thorin strode around the room; it was exactly as he remembered it. Not a thing had been touched since the day Smaug came. He touched the fur on his bed, the leather lining cracked and stiff. His wardrobe stood open where he had opted to leave his more royal clothes for that of his armor. The bottles remained untouched save one that Fili was now giving a wide berth. He carefully moved the door to the water closet and stepped inside. If his memory was correct it would be right – ah!

He picked up the comb that lay on a small stone shelf, sitting next to a few of his older beads. Those he scooped up and pocketed but the comb he held in his hand and rubbed the dust off. It was a funny little thing his father and mother had made together for him on his twelfth naming day. It was pure diamond interlaced with gold and jewels. It was more ornate than what he had grown accustomed to now, but it was something he had profoundly missed.

Taking a deep breath he left and found Kili and Fili on the balcony; it was long, secluded as all the other balconies were, a wall of slanted stone sat on either side giving it a sense of privacy from the others. The glass between that and the room was misted and cracked in some places, but held strong like those who made it.

“Fili if you would like to move your stuff in, Kili and I will move on,” Thorin’s voice gently caught his nephews’ attention.

“No, I want to see the other rooms; it can wait,” Fili said looking longingly over the vast mountain side. If Thorin looked hard enough he swore he saw the Carrock nestled just on the edge of the MistyMountains. They had come such a long way.

In the hallways the family ‘Ur and Bilbo were talking, of what Thorin didn’t know, but Bilbo was smiling and that was all that mattered.

Following the long hallway he could see the King’s Common down at the end, but he was going to wait. Kili hesitated at the door of Frerin’s old room before pushing open the wooden door, wincing as it creaked and cracked.

Thorin followed in and laughed loud and hard, the sound bouncing off the walls. Kili and Fili stared in utter amazement at the state of the room. It was a disaster. Clothes and weapons were strewn about. The bed’s linen and fur were off and halfway to the room’s balcony. An open tin of leather soap was open but had long since dried. Frerin’s bottles of scented oils were tucked away and out of the sight and could only be seen by their ornate tops poking out from under a tunic. The family ‘Ur had poked their heads in and Bilbo stood in the doorway looking utterly lost.

“Mother would have our ears for this kind of mess,” Fili stated looking at his uncle and then back at the room.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a room in such a state,” Kili continued. “Was it always like this?” he gaped up at his uncle.

“Aye, he was never one for picking up after himself. Always ready for war or food. Our mother and father tried everything they could to keep his room clean, even having guards clean it, but it was a lost cause. It would look like how you see it now the next morning.”

Thorin had been sure that seeing this room the way it was would bring nothing but somberness, but instead warmth had taken over his heart and he fondly smiled at the mess and clothes strewn about.

“Is it really that bad?” Bilbo asked from the doorway.

Thorin reached back and grabbed the Hobbit’s hand, leading him forward. Bilbo followed and frowned when his stick met clothing. Tutting Bilbo began shifting about the room, his frown deepening with each new obstacle his staff hit.

“Your brother was very messy indeed. I am content to not look upon his mess,” the burglar stated and maneuvered his way back to Thorin, tapping the edge of Thorin’s boots and smiling when he knew he had the right Dwarf.

Fili patted Kili on the back and walked out of the room. “I do hope you have fun cleaning your room brother,” he said in a singsong tone. Kili scowled but shook his head, closing the door behind him.

Dis’s room Thorin kept shut; his sister could look at it when she got here. There were other guest rooms littered along the way, but they were on the other side and lacked the windows and balconies.

He stopped outside the last chamber; this was the largest and harbored fond memories. The double doors were grand and made of hard wood that looked as though time hadn’t even touched them. Thorin took a deep breath and Bilbo nudged him. Smiling at the door the other five were behind them teasing Kili, giving the two a moment of privacy.

“Your parents’?” he asked.

“Yes, and my grandparents’. After Frerin’s I thought it would be easy to open it, but now I feel I shouldn’t.”

“I understand. It will get easier with time,” Bilbo said.

Thorin nodded before remembering himself. “I know,” but quickly remembered that Bilbo wasn’t just saying it. He did understand. That sobered him up and he gripped Bilbo’s shoulder tight.

Taking another deep breath he opened the doors.

There was a collective gasp behind him and Bilbo sighed. Thorin chuckled pulling Bilbo into a half hug.

“I do wish they wouldn’t do that,” Bilbo muttered rolling his eyes.

“Have you ever…?”

“No.”

“How did they make glass that big?”

“How is it not broken?”

The ceiling of the room was high above them, Thorin had to crane his neck up just to look up at it. The wall opposite them that viewed outside the mountain was floor to ceiling made purely of stained glass. It was separated only by a fireplace that rose to the top where the smoke ventilated. There were five doors that led to the left and right and in the center was a sitting area. The room itself was rather small but its height made it feel so much bigger. This area was for the king and whoever he chose to have with him, in the old days it would be the king’s immediate family, but things had changed over the years.

“By my beard. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Bofur said, and Bifur commented in Khuzdul looking around. Bombur could only nod as he had to nearly bend over backwards to look up. Fili and Kili were already all over the room looking at this and that.

Bilbo had left his side and was moving around the room tracing the wall, by the time he got back to the wall he started on he looked around confused. “It’s not that big,” he commented.

“No, not in width but in height,” Thorin chucked.

“Beorn could stand in here!” Bofur said looking up again.

“Bofur I think you’re exaggerating,” Bilbo smiled.

“No he’s right, Beorn could stand in here. Jump too,” Thorin smirked down at his burglar.

Bilbo gave a look of disbelief. “You’re teasing Thorin, it’s not good for your image,” he muttered. Thorin barked out a laugh. It was no use to agitate the Hobbit any longer.

He guided Bilbo to the middle of the room. “There are three bed chambers attached to this common room, a servants’ quarter, and a small kitchen. If you so wish it Bilbo there is an annex to the king’s chambers that is mostly private. The other two had been used as a nursery and playrooms for when my brother, sister and I were but small Dwarflings. After we grew we moved to the outside rooms and they were inverted to meeting rooms. They can be easily changed into –”

“Thorin, would there be any upset if I moved into the servants’ quarters?” Bilbo asked suddenly.

Thorin blanched at the Hobbit. “You wish to room in the servants’ quarters?” he echoed. “Bilbo you are no servant, you have more than enough earned your right to be allowed to stay –”

“Thorin!” Bilbo snapped and that shut his mouth quickly. “Thorin,” he started again, “listen first before you go off on a tirade. I am blind, I do not wish to be in a big room, I would be happier to stay in a room that is smaller so that I may move around in a safer environment,” he said frustrated. “Plus if that story of you and Frerin is correct, then the servants’ quarters are connected to the kitchen and I would very much like to be able to familiarize myself to be able to cook food again.”

“Where did you hear such a tale?!”

“Balin. Now, is that acceptable?” Bilbo replied waving his hand around.

“Our Hobbit does have a point,” Bofur said placing a hand on their burglar’s shoulder, “and, if I may be so bold, I snuck my head in and saw there are three beds. My cousin and I could stay with him for awhile to help along our esteemed Hobbit.”

Thorin found himself tightlipped. Everything Bilbo and Bofur had said was true, but the thought of seeing Bilbo in the servants’ chambers didn’t settle with him well. He wanted to amend his deeds at the gate by having Bilbo stay in his rooms while he adjusted. A false hope, Thorin realized, as a king with a frail kingdom; his ability to watch over his Hobbit would be far and few between, borderline neglectful. Gandalf’s words echoed in his head. _‘You would be responsible for his fate.’_

“You speak nothing but the truth, I would be happy to allow you and Bifur to stay here with Bilbo to help him,” Thorin said with a smile. Bofur brightened up and Bifur made a thankful gesture. Thorin shouldn’t have been too surprised, they had after all been the ones to take care of Bilbo when Thorin could not.

It was going to be a long winter. He watched Bilbo walk away with Bofur to discuss moving things into the room. Spring would come all too soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next story will be about Bilbo's winter in Erebor.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Kazechi who was a wonderful person to work with and did a wonderful job.


End file.
